Of Dreams and Drinking
by Many Sleepless Nights
Summary: Sam and Dean argue, harsh words are said, and Dean ends up drunk off his ass at a bar in the middle of no where. Cas has to retrieve the mess of alcohol and tears that is Dean Winchester and things kind of go downhill from there. Angst, fluff, and as always plenty of Destiel


"I had dreams, Dean!" Sam yells, practically shaking the walls of the motel room, "I went to college, I was going to get married! Than you come and drag me into this shit!"  
"Look I know you're angry but-"  
"Goddammit, Dean, You can't even hunt right! And this is what you've been doing your whole life! Look, I'm sorry for not being the perfect little hunter, but you're worse than I am sometimes! You're reckless and ignorant!"  
"Sam this isn't about you bei-"  
"I had dreams!" Sam yells again, shoving his brother back.  
"You don't think I did?" Dean screams, snapping, "I wanted a life too, Sam! Or did you forget the time I left the only place that made me happy, walked out on my first real relationship so that you wouldn't have to hunt alone? Or maybe the time I gave up my entire life's savings so that you could even go to Standford? Oh, I have one! How I signed your admission papers so dad wouldn't find out! And as for my reckless behavior- it was always to save your ass! and just FYI, I did want to do something other than hunt with my life. But I couldn't leave you alone with dad, and after you left, dad threatened to disown me if I left like you! Maybe I should mention the shit I got from dad for helping you get to your precious university. Or how you never returned any of my calls. Or how, even now, you think you have more of a right to a life and a family. I had a family, too, Sam, remember? Do you remember Ben? What about Lisa? I was with them for a year, thinking you were dead, only to find out you didn't care enough to inform me you were completely fine! And even after you lied, I dropped everything to go help you! Everything I ever fucking do is for you! "  
Sam doesnt answer at first. His brother's words are soaking in, along with the hurt expression on his face.  
"Dean I-"  
"Fucking save it." Dean mutters, grabbing his jacket and storming to the door.  
"Where are you going?"  
"Out." Dean snaps.

Sam's been alone for almost four hours. It's getting later and later, with no sign of his brother. He's left messages, texted about a thousand times, but there's never an answer.  
"Cas, for god's sake, this is important," Sam calls for him. No answer. "Cas?" Nothing, "Castiel, it's about Dean. Something's wrong."  
Bam. There he is.  
"Something is wrong?" Cas asks, concern seeping into his serious tone.  
"I did something." Sam cringes, "I did something really bad." He explains the argument to the angel, guilty and upset, trying to remember the last time a blowout like this happened. Cas just shakes his head the whole time.  
"Sam, why did you- how? ugh," he groans, "I'll go retrieve him. He's probably knee deep in liquor by now."

And that he is. The third bar Cas zaps to is nearly empty, except for a bartender wearing the wrong shade of lipstick and a rack big enough for the imagination to wander. But Dean isn't doing much wandering. He's just drinking, and it's not his first one.  
"Another one, sugar?" The bartender asks.  
"Excuse me," Castiel interjects, "Doesn't the Bartender decide when enough is enough?"  
"As long as the money keeps coming, I'll let 'em keep going." Cas snaps at her words.  
"What if he were to pass out, dead? That would be a legal case on your hands, in which you could be convicted of accidental murder. Part of your job description is to stop those before drinking becomes a hazard, if not jail time, you could be sued thousands." The woman stumbles backwards.  
"Get him out of here," she mumbles, "He's had a few too many."  
"Cas?" Dean looks up, like he's coming out of a daze, "What're you doing? Where are we…?" Cas tried to pull him from the barstool, guiding him wobbly outside.  
"I would transport us back to the hotel, but I'm not sure your stomach could handle it while you're like this."  
"B-But, Baby. I need to drive her back… to the… the place we're… Where are we staying, Cas?"  
"You are not driving," Cas orders, his tone final, "There is no way in Hell-"  
"Hell! Well, I've been to hell. But you… you know that."  
"Yes, Dean. Of course I know that. I'm the one who-"  
"Yeah, yeah. Gripped me tight. You do that," He slurs, looking down at Cas's hand gripping his shoulder, trying to pull him out the door.  
"Dean, seriously we need to-"  
"What? We need to get back to sammy before he worries? I have news for you. I went missing for a year without any worry from… Sammy," He says the name in a tone of disgust Cas has never heard him talk about his brother with. "Sammy will be fucking fine without me. He'll… He'll get married. He'll have family. He'll be a motherfucking Brady!"  
"Dean calm down," Castiel mumbles, trying to get rid of the anger and pain in Dean's eyes.  
"And you know," Dean stumbles out to the sidewalk, brisk air around them, "I can't even try to leave. When I leave I don't leave forever. I-I can't handle it, Cas. I would never-" He has to choke down a sob, "I would never even dream of doing half of the things he does to me. He yells and he tells me he hates me and he leaves and won't come back and then he'll just… He'll move on right after with some pretty girl and… and… I can't do that to him! I can't ditch him like that! And I want to… I really, really want to…" He groans, trying not ot cry. Cas is trying to get his attention, trying to pull him to earth from his hurt, drunken haze. but it isn't working.  
"You need to look at me, okay? Look. Where are your keys?"  
"You can't drive," Dean practically gags, "You don't know how."  
Cas doesn't tell him the only reason he's taking the keys is to make sure he doesn't try to dirve the thing.  
"I know, I'm calling a cab."  
Dean vomits on the sidewalk, and Castiel has to look away. He isn't used to this new vulnerability. And it scares him.  
"Cas I don't feel good," he groans.  
"I know, Dean, I know," He tries to soothe, searching frantically on his smartphone for the nearest taxi company still supplying at three am. Unfortunately, small towns in Alaska didn't have much late-night public tranportation.  
"Well shit," Cas mutters, dialling the only person he can think of.  
"How are you calling?" Dean demands  
"No one."  
"Who?"  
"Hey, Cas do you have him?" Sam's voice comes in on the other line.  
"Is that Sam?"  
"Dean I-" Cas tries to say, but the phone is ripped from his hands.  
"No," Dean grunts, "We are not… no sam."  
"Dean you can't even walk in a striaght line, and I can barely teleport you when you're well and-"  
"No Sam," Dean looks near tears again, making Cas's heart break, "Sam hates me. He won't come anyways."  
"You know that's not true. You can't honestly think that."  
"He told me he did," Dean sounds weak, like he's giving up, "He blames me for everything. It's all my… I did this. I did this. I made him hate me. I'm- I'm awful."  
"Hey, lo-"  
"Anything he could ever say to me can't be worse than what I say to myself," he whispers, "I hate me, too."  
Cas wraps his arms around the barely-standing man, who immideately slouches into him.  
"Don't say that. Don't ever even…"  
"Everyone hates me," Dean's mind is in a trance. He keeps mumbling that over and over. "Everyone hates me. Everyone hates me. Everyone hates me…"  
"I love you."" Cas says honsetly, looking Dean strait in his glazed-over eyes. He nods back and grunts, coughing.  
"'m tired," he mumbles, his eyes practically rolling to the back of his head.  
"It's okay, Dean." Cas insists, slupming Dean against the outside wall of the bar.  
While Dean's out, he calls sam back, who answers frantically.  
"What was that?" He demands.  
"Your brother didn't want to contact you," Cas said grimly, "He belives- Nevermind. Just come to retrieve us, will you?"  
"What, you can't zap him back?"  
Castiel'd blood boils at his question.  
"Why, does you having to drive home your gult-ridden, drunken, sick brother displease you? Now I see it. You're too lazy. If this had been you, he would have already found you ad taken you home. Hell, we wouldn't have let you leave at all. Don't think for one se-"  
"Woah, woah, Cas!" Sam yells, "I just meant we need to get him home fast… I didn't… I mean…"  
"It's fine," Cas grumbles, giving him an adress brofore hanging up without a word. He sits down next to Dean, "I'm sorry, but I had to." He says to him, too out of it to hear.  
It's been nearly an hour when Sam gets there, and Dean's eyes snap open at the sound of his voice.  
"Did you… run?"  
"How else," Sam gasps, "Was I," He splutters, "Supposed to get here?"  
Cas softens. Any resentment's gone with the last of Sam's breath.  
"No," Dean manages to studder out, before gagging. He really feels like shit.  
"Yes," Sam snaps, "God, Dean what the hell were you th-"  
Cas's glare cuts Sam off.  
"Help me get him to the car." He demands, twisting the buttons on his coat.  
"I can walk," Dean sighs, but can barely get up before proceeding to stumble and fall. Sam tries to catch him, but is pushed off, "'Said could walk."  
"Dean…" Sam's voice breaks, "Don't do this."  
Dean is undone.  
The car ride home is filled with tears, mostly Deans, as he wails.  
"I'm sorry!" He keeps yelling, "I know I'm not good enough, and I'm sorry!"  
Sam can't reply. Cas doesn't know how to calm him down. So they stay quiet and let the air soak in his unanswered screams.  
"Why did you do this to yourself?" Sam asks as they pull up in the parkinglot, pinches the bridge of his nose.  
"Because you'll leave." Dean replies, "Everyone always leaves."  
as if to prove his point, Sam get out of the car and walks inside the motel room.  
"I won't leave," Cas promises, but knows it won't do much good.  
"Yes you will. Maybe not now, but you will."  
"No. I won't."  
Dean scoffs.  
"C'mon. I'll get a room for us. I don't think you two should stay together tonight," Castiel does his best to smile, but it comes out more like a grimace.  
So that was how they ended up, Dean asleep with his head on Cas's lap, on a motel sofa. Drunken, but almost peaceful. The peace is ended the next morning, when he throws up everywhere as his wakeup call.  
"Hangover," He chokes.  
"Hangover?" Cas asks, his eyebrows pulling together in confusion. Deaqn doesn't have the energy to elaborate. When Sam comes around to apologize and make ammends, Cas makes him leave.  
"He is hung on something." Cas does his best to explain.  
"A hangover?"  
"Yes, yes. He's very… sick. Sleeping now, but sick."  
"It'll pass," Sam sighs, "I'll go get the McDonald's icecream."  
"Icecream?"  
"Fast food icecream's the best for hangovers. Or at least that's what he said. Becake when he used to tell me things."  
The regret is etched into every feature Sam possesses.  
"He'll forgive you," Cas assures, "He always does."  
"That's what I'm worried about. That he'll just let it go and… then everything will all build up until theres another explosion like this. He doesn't even talk to me anymore. It's like… I'm losing him."  
"To be fair, you seem to be pushing away."  
They eat the icecream, but Dean can't keep it down. He spends most of the day sleeing, but the next morning acts like nothing happened.  
"Ready to hit the road?" He asks.  
"Ready to talk?"  
"About what, exactly?" Dean looks genuinely confused.  
"Oh, I don't know. The things you told me and Cas about…"  
"I was drunk, Sam."  
"Dean…"  
"Get your stuff, we're leaving."  
They don't look back.


End file.
